Lies
by dcstarsearcher
Summary: She keeps it, uses it to remind herself of the consequences of her actions... oneshot, companion piece to "It's Never Lupus". Cameron centric.


**So I'm in the midst of writing, "Its Never Lupus", when of course the question came up. And because I'm never satisfied with clichés, I decided to do a oneshot on it. This can be considered a companion piece; it shares the same character names, as well as the pretense. It's just a bit more in-depth than the version in the other story. Can be read alone, of course. Cameron history.**

* * *

She lied.

Not by admission. By omission. Either way, it was still deception. And she hated it.

But now was hardly the time to set it straight.

All of her acquaintances, the colleagues she saw occasionally, maybe went to a party with, the ones she added to her forward list when she received something particularly touching... well, they assumed that she had been born with it. After all, she was a doctor too, it was common practice, and anyways, she wasn't married.

Her friends thought that she was simply a Good Samaritan. He's gone, she holds onto it, because that's just who she is. Always thinking of others, even when they're not around to witness it. The perfect wife, the perfect lover, the perfect person.

Her family knows better, yet for the life of them they can't figure it out. Where did she come up with it? And more importantly, why? This isn't like the responsible, methodical, almost overly cautious girl they had watched grow up. Go to medical school. Get married. So they blamed him, blamed his condition, blamed his death. Anything to take the sting out of being shut out of her life so completely, even to the point of sharing their name.

Morse.

Penny.

Cameron?

She was hiding something, a secret so terrible that she refused to let anyone in on it. Share her pain. Ease her guilt.

Derek had died of thyroid cancer that had masticized in his brain. He had been slow to go, though. The doctors had given him 11 months; he had clung tenaciously to life for almost fifteen. He said that he wanted to live for her. He couldn't.

The treatments had been kind to him. The doctors had used radioiodine therapy and chemo, and had warned them of the consequences. Derek would eventually be confined to a bed, would have to eat a specialized diet, and would need constant care. Instead he had remained vigorous and active for the most part, succumbing only very near to the end. He claimed she kept him healthy; she knew better.

They had even been able to make love occasionally. They had to be gentle, of course, but it was enough to be able to hold each other.

And then it happened.

He was admitted to the hospital. She spent most of her days up there, as expected. She would arrive before he awoke, and never left until he asked her to. He wanted her to go out, to try and have fun. He wanted her to stop worrying about him so much. He was brave like that, brave and strong. She wasn't.

She hated being away from him, being alone. So she wasn't. She began hanging out with Joe. He had been their best man; he knew better than anyone what she was going through. He comforted her, cried with her, and gave her strength to go on. She felt like a traitor.

When Derek had finally died, she fell apart. The first thing she did was down a bottle of scotch. The second thing was to go knock on Joe's door. He hadn't resisted; he had drowned his own sorrows in vodka. The result was wild, painful sex.

The next day, she miscarried.

She hadn't even been aware that she was pregnant. She had been in too much grief to track her periods properly, had thrown up nearly everyday since the whole ordeal had started. It had been months... yet there it was. There SHE was.

Not long after they had started dating, Derek had confided in her, somewhat sheepishly, one of his biggest dreams. He wanted children. And not just any children. He wanted a daughter, and he wanted to name her after his sister, who had passed away as a toddler.

Cameron.

She took the name for herself, to remind her of the consequences of her actions.

She never told. She probably never will. So she lied.

And she hated herself for it.

* * *

**I can never decide whether I think that Cameron took (and kept) her dying husband's last name. I see excellent reasons to support each theory. So I came up with a different option entirely. What do you think? Does the idea have merit? Either way, I liked writing it. It fits her, in my opinion. It would certainly explain a lot of things haha. Anyways, nother chappie of "Its Never Lupus" coming soon!**


End file.
